


Time Rots Everything

by TangoDown1800



Category: BioShock, BioShock Infinite
Genre: Eventual Relationships, F/M, New York City, Police, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Slow Burn, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-06-02 16:41:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 19,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6573916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TangoDown1800/pseuds/TangoDown1800
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You work as a detective in modern day NYC. You're used to the wild cases that come through your department, but this one may just take the cake.<br/>A man claiming to be from the early 1900s shows up at your department asking for help finding his daughter. Will you brush him off as another insane person or will you be the first to help him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It Comes with the Promotion

You were making your way to work after another sleepless night. You never slept well, but since being promoted to detective, things got worse.

Being a detective in New York City was never a boring job. Certain cases you worked on seemed to stick with you no matter what. Therapy didn’t help and you refused to let anyone at work learn about your problems.

A long sigh escaped as you pulled into your designated spot. Maybe today would be a dull day. No dead bodies, no missing people, no conspiracy theories. You look at yourself in the rearview mirror and scoff. Who were you kidding, nothing was ever dull in this line of work.

The bags under your eyes had bags. “I need a vacation,” you say to yourself.

You grab your stuff and get out of your car with a groan. “Ugh, how old are you, [y/n],” you ask yourself. “Get it together.”

Climbing the stairs to your office almost took all of your energy. _That used to be so easy._ You look at your desk and let out a sigh of relief. Your partner was obviously here going by the large cup of coffee sitting on your desk. “Thank you, Moretti,” you say to no one in particular. You take a long sip and smile. _I feel better already._

“Someone looks happy and relaxed today,” Moretti quips walking over to your desk.

“Something tells me it won’t last long. Thanks for the coffee, buddy.”

“No problem and I’m sorry to say, but you were right: your relaxed state will not be sticking around.” Moretti sits on the edge of your desk and you groan.

“Lay it on me.”

“We got a guy in this morning claiming that yesterday he was in 1912 and now he’s here. He also claims to have worked for Pinkerton.”

“Pinkerton?” You had to hold back a laugh. “Isn’t that Securitas AB now? No one has called it Pinkerton in years.”

Moretti shrugs, “We were about to send him to the psych ward, but then he said something about a missing daughter. He gave us two different names for her, but neither name is getting us anything in the system.”

You rub your temple, “Does this time traveler have any ID or anything?”

“I’ll let you see for yourself. We have him in one of the interrogation rooms. He ain’t too happy about it.” Moretti walks you to where this so-called time traveler is. He doesn’t look very threatening just disheveled. He actually looked more tired that you, if that was possible. His right hand was bandaged and he just looked like he’s been through hell and back.

Moretti held his hand out towards the door, “Want me to come in with you?” he asks.

You shake your head, “No, maybe I can get something out of him that you guys couldn’t.” You open the door and enter the room slowly. The man turns to you looking angry but then his face relaxes.

“Ma’am,” he nods.

“Hello, Mr….?”

“DeWitt. Booker DeWitt, ma’am.” He holds out his bandaged hand, you take it gently and shake it. You held it a little longer than you should have. Letting go quickly and clearing your throat, you sit down. You motion to the seat across from you. “Please take a seat, Mr. DeWitt.”

Before he sits, you look at his clothes. Pinstripe trousers, black button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, showing off sinewy, tanned skin, a blue vest and his gun holster. He certainly dressed like he was from the early 1900s, but there was no way.

His ID was sitting on the table. You pick it up and look at it. This was definitely old, but you could probably find stuff like this online.

_Booker DeWitt. Born April 19, 1874._

1874? That would make him 142. Impossible. You look up at him, his green eyes bore into you. He leans in closer and you can smell alcohol. Now things were starting to make sense.

“Can you help me miss? Everyone here seems to be real reluctant and you seem like a nice lady, Ms…?”

“[Y/N]. _Detective_ [Y/N].”

Booker looked shocked for a minute. “A lady detective? That is incredible,” he says sitting back in the chair.

You weren’t sure if you should be offended by that or not. He seemed like a nice guy so you let that go.

“Mr. DeWitt, I’m sure my associates have told you that it is 2016. If we were to believe this ID, that you were born in 1874, that would make you 142. People don’t tend to live that long and honestly you don’t look a day over 40.”

Booker sighs and sits up, leaning on his forearms. “I’m just as confused as you are, ma’am. I told those men that just the other day I was in 1912 and now I’m here, but obviously I’m here for a reason. For my daughter. I need help.” He stops, trying to calm himself.

_Yeah, this guy needed help alright. Help that you couldn’t give him here._

You stand and he stands slightly, an old sign of respect. You couldn’t believe this guy. “Okay, Mr. DeWitt, sit tight and I’ll try to get you some help.” You smile as nicely as you can and leave the room.

“So what do you think?” Moretti asks.

“Everything about this is weird, but _he_ doesn’t seem like a particularly insane person. He did sort of smell of alcohol though,” you point out.

“Yeah, I got a whiff of that too,” your partner says. “What do we do with him?”

You look at Booker through the glass. “We really have no reason to keep him here, but I doubt he has anywhere to go.” So much for that dull day.

“I wanted to show you something else,” Moretti leads you over to a table with some of Booker’s things on it. You pick up a large weapon with three strange hooks in a circle. You pull the trigger and the hooks spin. The look you give your partner says it all: _what the hell is with this guy?_

You pick up another one of his weapons. “This has to be over a hundred years old, but it’s in perfect condition. What the hell?” This was starting to drive you mad.

You storm back into the interrogation room and Booker stands. “Mr. DeWitt…if you want our help you’re going to have to start telling me the truth! Please tell me who you really are and where you got all this so-called vintage stuff. Did you find it on the internet?”

Booker squints at you, looking genuinely confused. “The in…ter…what?”

You shake your head, “I can’t believe this. And about your missing daughter…you gave us two names, but we didn’t find anything about her anywhere. We’re not sure what to do with you.”

He sat back sadly, his big green eyes looking into your [e/c] ones.

“Do you have anywhere to go, Booker?” you ask.

He looked a little shocked by you using his first name. “I’m from New York, but this is not the city I remember…so no, I have nowhere to go, ma’am. I’m on my own.”

God, this man was pulling on your heartstrings now. “Do you have any money?”

He shakes his head. “No ma’am…well probably nothing I can use here.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a handful of silver coins. “Will these do me any good?”

You take one of the coins from his hand and inspect it. It was marked with _Columbia_ at the top and _1900_ at the bottom. An image of a woman with wings, a key around her neck, holding a sword and the Constitution was in the middle. The back of the coin showed the Constitution again with the sword and key flanked by seven stars on either side.

“What is this? I thought you said you were from New York. Where is this Columbia?”

“I…it’s a long story…but a real one. A _true_ one. These are silver eagles.” He shakes the coins in his hands, looking at them in deep thought.

You couldn’t just leave this man out on the streets especially in New York. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll let you stay in one of the holding cells tonight. It’s not very comfortable, but it’s better than sleeping on the street.”

He grabs your hand, making you jump at the sudden contact. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

You smile warmly, “You’re welcome, Mr. DeWitt.” You glance at his bandaged hand and notice blood seeping through the cloth. “Follow me,” you say.

“Yes ma’am.” Booker stands and follows you out the room. All conversation stops as you lead him to the holding cells and let him into one.

“Like I said, not the most comfortable.”

He gives you a sideway smile, “This’ll do, ma’am. This’ll do just fine. I’ve slept in much worse conditions during my time with the 7th Calvary.”

Your head pops up at him, but you don’t say anything. You point to his hand, “I’m going to find something to fix up that hand of yours.”

You leave the cell and walk to your desk where Moretti is waiting. “So?” he asks.

You shrug, “I just don’t know. Can you get me the first aid kit?”

Moretti nods and is back in a flash. “He doesn’t have any money, nowhere to go. I can’t help but feel bad for the guy.”

Your partner sighs, “You and that big heart of yours.”

“Shut up, Moretti,” you say as you walk back to the holding cell.

“Let’s see that hand, Mr. DeWitt.” He hesitates but holds his hand out for you.

“You can call me Booker,” he says.

“Fine…Booker, but only if you stop calling me ma’am. Makes me feel old.”

Booker lets out a light laugh, “Sorry, just a habit.”

“Oh my God,” you say as you get a good look at his hand, “What happened here?”

“I-I was stabbed, but it’s not that serious. Really, ma- Detective, don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.” He smiles at you and you can’t help but smile back.

You notice that his hand had also been branded with the letters AD. You wanted to ask him about it, but you had a feeling that there was an even longer story for that and you really couldn’t deal with anything else today.

While cleaning his hand, you notice his other hand gripping his knee, knuckles white. He was in pain. “I’m sorry if I’m hurting you.”

“Its fine,” he says through gritted teeth.

“All done,” you say as you wrap his hand again.

“Thank you, Detective.”

You nod, “No problem. Um, I’ll be right at my desk if you need anything.”

Booker flashes you a smile again as you leave the cell.

“Hey, [y/n] it’s lunch time. You want to go grab something?” Moretti asks.

“Do you mind bringing something back for me? I want to work on some things.”

“Sure, no problem. Pizza okay?” he asks.

“You know me so well.” You wink at him as he puts on his jacket.

You turn your computer on and type Booker’s name into the system. Nothing. Maybe Google would show you something.

Instead of typing his name you type in 7th Calvary Regiment of the U.S. Army. Wounded Knee catches your eye right away. _No way._

A few images pop up and you look through them. You click on a picture to enlarge it and almost fall out of your chair. There he was. That was Booker with a few other men. You shake your head. Maybe it was his great grandfather or something. Then you see his name written at the bottom of the picture. “Impossible,” you say to yourself.

 

Either this was an extremely elaborate hoax or life as you knew it was about to change.


	2. Stories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You learn more about this mysterious time traveler...

**Booker’s POV**

Booker was happy to have someone that actually listened to him. He doubted she believed him, but she was sincere and kind, something that Booker wasn’t used to.

The detective hadn’t been back to see him since she redressed his hand; he sort of missed her company. It was nice just having someone to talk to. The only thing that worried him now was what would happen to him after today. They were letting him stay for the night but what then? Was he on his own to find his daughter?

Booker sighs loudly and rubs his face. He got her back once and he could do it again. This was a different world though, modern times according to the detective. Would that make things easier?

He lays back on the thin mattress and closes his eyes. He was tired but too anxious to sleep. Besides, he always had nightmares that woke him and left him shouting at times. These people already thought he was crazy, there was no reason to give them more proof.

Booker stares at the ceiling and listens to the sounds around him. He longed for interaction but also hid from it. Gambling and drinking were his vices, vices that got him in loads of trouble, but they helped him forget things.

He heard footsteps approaching and sat up quickly pleased to see Detective [y/n] again. “Hey, uh…you hungry?” she asks holding a plate out to him through the bars. “It’s pizza. My favorite.” She giggles a bit and Booker walks over to take the plate.

“I _never_ share pizza so consider yourself lucky. Here’s some water.” She passes a cup to him.

“Thank you for being so kind, Detective.”

She only smiles and nods. Booker could tell she was holding something back but should he question her?

“Is something wrong, [y/n]?” he asks without thinking.

She looks at him for a long time like she was trying to figure everything out all at once. “I just…have so many questions but I don’t even know where to start,” she says.

“Well, I’d be happy to tell you anything you’d like to know,” he responds.

She nods, “Okay but I’ll let you eat first. I’ll come back in a little while.”

“Sounds good.” Booker smiles and she lowers her head shyly then turns to walk away. He sniffs the pizza and his stomach growls. He was starving, relieved that the detective didn’t stick around to watch him eat. He looked like a madman shoveling the food into his mouth.

\----------------------------------

 

Familiar footsteps approach again and Booker wipes his mouth quickly then runs his fingers through his hair.

“How was it?” she asks.

“Delicious. Thanks again.”

“Don’t mention it. Here, I’ll take the trash.” She holds her hands out through the bars for his cup and plate then tosses them into the garbage can behind her.

Booker hadn’t been able to get a good look before but now he saw that she wore trousers and a black blouse. He didn’t mean to stare but a woman in trousers was practically new to him.

“Uh, Booker…everything okay?” she asks.

He couldn’t take his eyes away fast enough. He stands holding his hands up, “Don’t get the wrong idea, ma’am. I-I wasn’t staring at you in the wrong way I just…I’m not used to seeing pants on a woman is all.”

She unlocks the cell and walks in, closing it behind her. The stoic look on her face gave nothing away as she approached him. _Aw hell…_

“I thought I told you not to call me ma’am, Mr. DeWitt,” she says seriously then smiles.

Booker lets out a sigh of relief and smiles back. “Habit, remember? So what did you want to ask me?” He sits on the small bed and she sits next to him.

“Well, I, uh…I saw you or someone that looked just like you. I looked up the 7th Calvary Regiment and…there you were. I just don’t understand though; it makes no sense. You were _there_ and now…I can’t get my head around it. Did you really fight at Wounded Knee?” she asks staring at him in amazement and curiosity.

Booker nods, not really wanting to talk about it, “Yes, I did. I did some…things I’m not proud of. Things those people didn’t deserve. I’m actually part Native American and that didn’t go over well with the other men I found alongside so I…had to prove myself. They still called me The White Injun though, I couldn’t escape it.”

Her face was full of emotion now. He had to answer before she could ask. “I killed those people, _innocent_ people. I burned them alive. Men, women, and children. I scalped them…I…”

She places a hand on his shoulder to stop him. “It’s okay Booker, you can stop. I can tell that was hard for you but you can stop now. Just know that I’m not judging you.” She smiles lightly and he could tell she was sincere.

“I know this is a lot to take in, it’s a lot for me as well,” Booker says. “There’s so much more, but…”

“Mr. DeWitt…Booker, I mean, you don’t have to tell me everything now. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that this may actually be real.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you, Detective. I swear to you; every word I tell you is the truth.” Booker looks at her and could see how overwhelmed she was. “I don’t want to give you too much else to worry about but what happens to me after tonight?” he asks.

She gives him a sad smile, “I don’t know.” She must see his face fall, “But I’ll try to figure something out.”

Standing to leave, she turns to him once more, “Booker?”

“Yes?”

“Let’s keep everything you told me today between the two of us for now. My associates won’t be as understanding as I am.”

Booker nods, “Okay [y/n].”

 

**Your POV**

You sit at your desk with your head in your hands. What were you doing here? Were you really about to believe that a man has time traveled? Were you going to help him? Moretti was right, you put too much of your heart into this. You were actually planning on hiding things from your partner, a man you’ve known for years, for a man you knew for just a few hours.

“Hey [y/n], everything okay?” your partner asks waking you from your reverie.

“Yeah, I’m fine just got a lot on my mind.”

“Oh right, your little time traveling boyfriend down there,” Moretti quips jokingly. “Got a soft spot for him, huh?”

You roll your eyes, “The man obviously has some issues…”

“He’s a drunk, [y/n] …that’s his issue.” Moretti definitely couldn’t find out that you were thinking about helping him.

“We don’t know if he’s a drunk or not,” you say in Booker’s defense.

“You said yourself the man smelled like liquor. He’s either a drunk or just insane, but he doesn’t belong here. We can’t help him. He needs professional help!” Moretti sits at his desk angrily.

You can’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t make him angrier so you stay silent.

***A FEW HOURS LATER***

Your eyes felt like they were going to fall out of your skull. You had been staring at the computer screen doing research for God knows how long.

Moretti started gathering his things and looked at you still sitting at your desk, “Go home and get some rest, you need it.”

You could tell he was still a little angry. “Yeah, yeah I’m going. Have a good night.” He only sighs and leaves. Soon everyone would start thinking you were crazy as well if you didn’t hold it together.

Sighing loudly, you stand and walk to check on Booker one last time. As you get closer you can hear voices, none of them belonging to Booker. _What the hell?_

“Where is she?!” You hear him shout.

“Booker! What is going…?” Your question is cut short when you spot the source of the other voices, a redheaded man and woman standing in the cell with Booker. “Who the hell are you? How did you get in here?!”

The man and woman only stare at you then look at Booker again. “You know what to do. You know where to find her,” the woman says and then they’re gone.

“Booker…who were they?” you ask with a shaky voice.

“Are you sure you’re ready for another story?” he asks.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” You walk into the cell and sit down.

 

Time for another sleepless night…and this probably wouldn’t be the last.


	3. Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things keep getting stranger but also start falling into place.

**Your POV**

Tears? Lutece twins? This was becoming more complicated and it hadn’t even been a full day yet.

“If these _tears_ are possible, can’t you find your daughter that way?” you ask stupefied.

“I can’t make them. She can but she hasn’t tried to reach me yet…maybe something’s stopping her.” Booker stares at you as if he’s trying to gauge your reaction to everything.

“How long were those…twins here? What did they say to you?”

“They speak in riddles. Something about finding the one and everything falling into place. I wish they would just tell me what to do!” Booker says angrily.

You close your eyes. You were exhausted and he looked just as tired as you. “Look, I need to head home and get some rest or else I won’t be much help to anyone. You should try to sleep as well, you’ll feel better.”

“I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in I don’t know how long.” Booker groans.

“Same here but we should at least try.” You smile and yawn. “See?”

“I didn’t mean to keep you here so late. I’m sure your husband is worried about you,” Booker says innocently.

“I…uh…yeah. I better get going,” you say as you walk to open the cell. You just met this man, there was no need for him to know everything about you. The truth was you had no one to go home to but if he wanted to believe you had a husband, that was fine.

“Are you okay, detective?” Booker asks.

“Uh, yes…just got lost in thought. Goodnight Booker.”

“Goodnight,” he responds as you walk away.

 

**LATER AT HOME**

After you showered, you had curled up under the blankets and tried to get to sleep. When you finally got to sleep you were plagued by weird dreams. This was a change from the nightmares you were used to having but they still made it tough to sleep for more than a few hours.

You were up before the sun again and found yourself thinking about Booker.

Was he having the same kinds of dreams or did he have nightmares? Why did you care so much?

Who knew what kind of things that man went through awake and asleep. You could only imagine how frightened he must feel, how _alone_ he must feel. You were alone most of the time but that paled in comparison to being dropped in a completely different time period, left to your own devices. How was this possible?

The logical side of your brain wanted to laugh this off as some kind of prank. On the other hand, there were some things that couldn’t be explained and that bothered you. As a detective you were used to thinking outside of the box, but never _this_ far outside of it.

Sitting up and getting out of bed slowly, you stretch and walk to the bathroom and turn on the shower. You weren’t going back to sleep so you might as well get up.

The shower was the best place to think but you honestly couldn’t think about this anymore or your head might explode.

_____________________________________

While you showered you remembered that today was your day off.

_I should still check on Booker though._

You look in the mirror as you brush your teeth and you swear you see something but it wasn’t your reflection.

_Great, now I’m seeing things. One step closer to insanity._

_“Help me!”_ you hear a woman’s voice shout. It sounded far away but also very close. You look into the mirror again, moving closer slowly. _“HELP!”_ The voice shouts again and this time you see a face. You drop your toothbrush and run to your bedroom.

“What the fuck?!” You get dressed quickly and head to the department. Being alone was not an option right now.

 

**Booker’s POV**

He had slept a bit but as always, the dreams woke him up. He wondered how [y/n] was as he sat on the small bed.

People were in and out all night so that didn’t help with sleep either.

What would happen to him now? He saw one of the men who questioned him yesterday and asks when Detective [Y/N] would be in.

“It’s her day off,” is all the man said and Booker’s heart sinks. She was the only one he could talk to, the only one who was on his side.

“Damn it!” Booker says to himself as he wrings his hands.

Suddenly, he hears rapid footsteps coming towards the cell. Booker looks up to see the detective rushing over with a strange look on her face, almost like she’s seen a ghost.

“Booker!” she says in an exasperated whisper.

“Good morning, detective. How…”

“Booker, I saw something… _someone!”_

“Um…”

“This morning in my mirror…I saw someone, a woman and she was yelling for help…” She looks like she’s ready to pass out.

“Maybe you should take a seat,” Booker says worriedly.

She completely ignores him. “Those tears you were telling me about…can they show up anywhere?”

“I suppose so, but…”

“Let’s go!”

“What? Where?”

“Just come on!” She opens the cell and grabs his arm, pulling him through the department quickly. She stops in another room to grab a bag full of his things.

“[Y/N], isn’t it your day off?” She stops and looks at the man who asked her. Booker thinks it’s her partner.

“Uh, yeah…I just wanted to get him out of here. I’m the one that let him stay so I should be the one to let him go, right?” She wasn’t making much sense but all Booker could do was watch.

“Where exactly are you taking him?” her partner asks getting up from his desk.

“Somewhere he can get some help…”

[Y/N] grabs his arm and starts pulling him along again.

“Something’s not right…,” her partner says, causing her to stop again, but she doesn’t look at him.

“I’m fine, Moretti, really. I got this.”

“You’re hiding something from me. I’m your partner!” his voice rises.

“Just let me deal with this.” She was squeezing Booker’s arm tighter now.

“You’ve been so shut off since…”

“Don’t.”

“Since Zachary died.”

Booker’s eyes go wide at the sound of that name.

“How dare you bring him up, Moretti?” she says calmly but Booker could tell she was emotional. Moretti looks as though he wants to say something but she speaks first. “I gotta go. See you later.”

Booker looks at her and sees a tear roll down her cheek. They get on the elevator and she avoids looking at him.

“I’m sorry for causing these problems for you…”

“Booker, please, it’s fine. I’m fine. Get in.” [Y/N] opens the car door for him and he slides in looking at everything. “Pretty cool, huh?” she says getting in the drivers’ seat.

“So I was thinking I could maybe put you up at a hotel or something until, well, whenever this is over.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that, detective,” Booker says.

“You don’t have to. The truth is we’re going to need each other and I can’t have you wandering around these streets with nowhere to go.” She drives in silence for a time then pulls up to a building with a bright sign telling you it was a hotel. “Not the fanciest place but you’ll be comfortable and safe.” She reaches over to help him open the door.

 

“Checking in?” a man asks when they approach the desk inside. “Yes, I need a room for…a month I guess.” She places a plastic card on the desk and smiles. The man hands her two more plastic cards, tells her a room number and says, “Enjoy your stay.”

They walk up a flight of stairs and to the end of the hall to reach the room. Booker walks in first, checking his surroundings and [y/n] is close behind.

She turns on the light and shuts the door. “Booker, I’m scared,” she says finally breaking down. “This can’t be real. It just can’t be.”

Booker grabs her and sits her down on the bed. “Shh, shh…it’s okay. You’ll be okay, I promise.”

She looks into his eyes and then turns away probably feeling embarrassed. “I’m so sorry I’m making a fool out of myself.”

After a few deep breaths she starts talking again. “I think I saw your daughter…the woman in my mirror. Who else would it be? She reached out to me for a reason…”

“We’re not sure of that,” Booker says.

“I know but it’s the only lead we have.”

He couldn’t stand to see her so anxious, he should change the subject. “So your…Zachary. What was he like?” Booker regretted it as soon as it was out his mouth but she actually smiled.

“He was sweet but tough. Always told the truth no matter how much it hurt. Very organized and neat but I guess that was just the soldier in him. He loved music, he actually played guitar a lot…” She drifts off and stares at her hands. “Excuse me for a minute,” She gets up and walks into what Booker assumes is the bathroom.

As she stands her jacket falls off the bed onto the floor and Booker goes to pick it up. Her wallet had fallen out of her pocket and was opened to her ID.

He shouldn’t be snooping but the PI in him just couldn’t help it. She had shorter hair in this picture, with a bored smile and…

Booker almost falls over. Her middle name is Annabelle…he late wife’s name.

_Zachary…Annabelle…_

Now he knew this was more than just a chance encounter, this was fate.


	4. For the Long Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Booker gets settled in...sort of and you may end up playing a bigger part in this than you expected...

**Your POV**

You look at yourself in the mirror and take a few deep breaths. Telling Booker about Zachary was tough but it made you feel better somehow. He was trying to make you feel better and you appreciated that.

_No more tears, [y/n], keep it together._

You walk back into the main room where Booker is still sat on the bed. “Everything okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, I just needed to get myself together. I won’t be much help to you if I’m crying over everything.”

“This is a lot to take in, detective. If you need to cry, it’s okay. It’s better than, well…other things. Bottled up emotions can do a lot to a person. You stop thinking straight…” Booker drifts off and seems to be holding in some emotions of his own.

“The same goes for you, Booker. If you need to talk, I’m here. There’s no need for us to hide anything from each other anymore. We’re in this for the long run.”

Booker smiles up at you and right then you knew you could trust him. You don’t know what it is, you just knew this man was your friend whether he was 142 or 38.

You laugh to yourself when you think of that.

“Something funny?” Booker asks, eyebrows raised.

“Well, I just…I’m friends with a man from another era…how crazy is that?” You shake your head and sigh not sure what else to say. “Do you have a change of clothes or anything?”

_That was a dumb question._

“I’m afraid not,” Booker says looking down at himself.

“Stand up,” you tell him. He looks at you strangely but stands. Looking him up and down, you size him up and come to a conclusion. “You’re about the same size as Zach so, uh…I’ll let you have some of his stuff.”

_Were you really doing this?_

“[Y/N]…”, Booker starts but you hold up your hand.

“I insist. What else am I going to do with the clothes…?” You look at him and now you knew why you trusted him so quickly: he looked at you the same way your husband did. The gruff exterior was only a shield for the soft interior.

 _You’re just lonely,_ you tell yourself.

It was true, you didn’t have many friends and since Zachary died you hardly let yourself have fun.

You realize you’re staring at Booker… “Oh um, I will go get those clothes for you. You just get some rest. I’ll try to get back as fast as I can.”

There was so much he had to learn and so much _you_ had to learn. You would be spending a lot of time together for the next few _whatever._

“See you soon.” You smile at him once more before leaving.

 

**Booker’s POV**

He should have told her but he didn’t want to overwhelm her. She was already doing so much for him and he refused to do anything to upset her purposely.

Booker knew everything would come to light one of these days. The names, the places, everything had meant something but it was too soon to tell what. He knew he would have to pay [y/n] back for everything when this was over. She was sacrificing her own sanity for him, a man she’d known for a day and a half or so. She didn’t have to, she _wanted_ to and that touched Booker in a way he didn’t think was possible anymore.

After Annabelle died giving birth, everything went downhill for him. He vowed to never fall in love again. His grief sent him into a whirlwind of problems and he was still paying for it today.

What would the detective think of him if she knew about the drinking and gambling?

Booker was his own worst enemy and for good reason.

He looks at himself in the mirror and loosens his cravat. He needed a shave, some sleep, and a drink…or two.

He flexes his right hand just out of habit and unwraps it. Ever since [y/n] had taken care of it, it didn’t bother him. How was that possible? Maybe she had the special touch just like… _Annabelle._

Booker sits on the bed, kicks his shoes off and lays down, looking at his hand.

_Anna…Elizabeth…I’m so sorry. I’m coming for you, I promise._

And with that he closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep.

 

**Your POV**

You drive quickly but safely to get home so that Booker wouldn’t be alone too long.

_So he wouldn’t be alone? He was a grown man…_

Yes, a grown man in an unknown world and you were his only friend. At least you thought you were.

Once you enter your house you go down to the basement and turn on the lights. All of Zachary’s things were still here. You kept the flag from his casket upstairs next to the fireplace, but everything else was kept down here.

It was hard for you to let go. Just moving his stuff to the basement was hard on you.

You were about to let another man wear his clothes, what had come over you? You weren’t used to having such an immediate connection to anyone.

Maybe this was meant to happen.

_No, you didn’t believe in fate._

_______________________________

You didn’t want to linger too long so you grab the first box of clothes you see and head upstairs. Just as you’re about to leave the house you hear a strange sound almost like interference of some sort.

When you turn there are two figures standing in your living room. You blink a few times and shake your head.

_It isn’t real…_

“Annabelle,” someone whispers.

What? How?

“You can save them both. You’re the one, the last piece of the puzzle.”

You drop the box and cover your ears. “What do you want from me?!” you shout but then everything is quiet.

Grabbing the box quickly, you run to your car and close the door.

_Someone called me Annabelle…_

“I’m going to lose my mind before this is all over,” you mumble to yourself.

________________________________

The drive back to the hotel was tense for you. All you wanted to do was focus on the road but you kept thinking about what you saw, what you _heard._

Is this what Booker goes through?

You get to the hotel, run upstairs and knock frantically on the door. No answer. “Booker. Booker, you okay in there?” Nothing.

Luckily you had a key. Why wasn’t he answering though? You open the door slowly. “Booker,” you repeat. “Book-.” You stop when you see that he is sleeping, his arms crossed over his chest. Your husband used to sleep the same way, like he would always be ready to go no matter what.

You close the door lightly, not wanting to wake Booker, for once he actually looked peaceful.

Was this weird…just sitting here in the room with a sleeping man? It couldn’t be any weirder than what just happened at home.

 

Part of you wanted to go through that bag of weapons he had, but you would wait to ask him all about that when the time came.

You walk over to the window and take in how beautiful the sky is. You had always dreamed of touching the sky and living among the clouds but that was only silly talk. Cities in the clouds were things of fairytales and your life was nothing close to one.

Booker shifts in the bed and starts mumbling something. His eyes aren’t open but when he turns his head you can almost feel him staring at you.

“Annabelle, you look beautiful,” Booker says smiling, eyes still shut. Your heart starts beating out of your chest.

Slowly, Booker raises his hand to you. “Come to me, my love…,” he says. You don’t know what comes over you but you walk over to the bed, reaching out to him.

He takes your hand gently, “I’ll get our girl back, I promise…just stay with me.” His voice cracks and your eyes fill with tears.

“Booker, wake up. It’s okay.” You squeeze his hand lightly and shake him a bit.

He gasps and sits up quickly, his forehead breaking out in a sweat. He locks eyes with you still holding your hand.

All you can do is shrug and say, “I think it’s time for another story…”


	5. Always

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How much longer can you tell yourself that all these things are coincidences? There has to be something more...

**Booker’s POV**

Annabelle was right there; she was with him again. He needed her to come closer. He wanted to remember what she looked like.

 _Come to me,_ he told her and she did. Oh, she was beautiful.

As the years went on, she slowly faded from his memories, but he has always found a way to bring her back. He didn’t want to forget. Holding her hand again was a dream come true.

_Don’t leave me…_

She started to fade away and Booker tried to call out to her, waking with a start. Annabelle was no longer there but [y/n] was, her face full of sadness and concern. She suggested another story but this was one Booker would rather not tell.

_You were going to have to tell her sooner or later…_

“She…Annabelle was my wife, the light of my life.” This was even harder than he thought. _She knows what it’s like to lose someone. Tell her._

Booker was still holding her hand. He didn’t know why but it made the story a little easier to tell. Looking into her eyes he takes a deep breath and continues, “I was good when she was around. She made me a better man just by existing…” _Then everything went wrong._

He must have gotten lost in thought. “Booker…what happened?” [y/n] asks.

“She died in childbirth and there was nothing I could do. I let her die.” He was making a fool of himself.

_Get a hold of yourself, DeWitt…you don’t need a pity party._

“You didn’t let her die, Booker. Sometimes horrible things happen and when we need a reason we blame ourselves but that’s no way to live, trust me.” If she had more to say he wasn’t getting it out of her today.

“Your middle name,” Booker starts and she looks at him, eyes wide, “It’s Annabelle.”

She nods slowly, “How did you know?”

Booker shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck, “Your wallet fell out of your pocket and I…snooped a bit. Forgive me.”

“Good PI work,” she smiles. The light flooding into the room hit her just right and he has to look away because he sees Annabelle again.

He had to stop. He couldn’t start projecting his sadness and loss onto her, that wasn’t fair.

She finally stands from where she was kneeling beside the bed, her hand falling from his. Booker missed the sensation immediately.

_Isn’t there something else you need to tell her. Annabelle isn’t the only name you two have in common._

This wasn’t the right time. He needed her around and telling her more might push her away.

“Booker…Booker, you still there?”

“Yes, sorry I tend to get lost in my thoughts quite often.”

“Happens to the best of us,” [y/n] says walking back to the window. The silence stretches between them but it wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. She sighs and stares longingly out of the window. Booker wondered what she was thinking about.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He stands and walks over to the window, looking out as well.

She laughs and shakes her head, “It’s actually pretty silly…”

“I’m sure it isn’t,” he smiles to reassure her.

“Well, since I was a child I always had these dreams of living up in the clouds. I probably read too many fairytales or something, but I think it would be a beautiful thing. Isn’t that ridiculous?” she asks sheepishly.

_Not as ridiculous as you may think._

“It’s not ridiculous at all, [y/n]. I wish I could still have dreams like that…simple dreams, no more nightmares or riddles.” _Dreams like the one I just had._

“Well, I should get going. I have to be up early for work tomorrow. Make sure you try on those clothes so I know if they fit or not.”

“Will do.”

She walks to the door then stops, “I should give you my number just in case you need me for anything.” She grabs the notepad sitting on the bureau by the door. “Here’s my number.” She hands him the paper and he stares at the numbers.

“Oh, right…it’s basically the same as what you’re used to I think, just more numbers and you have to dial them in. See?” She dials the numbers quickly and her pocket starts ringing.

_What in the world?_

She pulls a small rectangle out of her pocket, touches it and the ringing stops. _What kind of do-hickey…_

“My phone is always on so whenever you need anything just call.”

“That _thing_ is a phone?” Booker points to her hand and she holds the object up.

“Yes sir. I’ll teach you more about it another time. Oh…here’s some money for food, you should eat something.” She hands him some money and Booker holds up his hands.

“Now you’ve done enough. I’m much obliged but I will not take your money.”

“Fine but tomorrow after I get off work we should go pick up a few basic things you’ll need,” she says with a smile.

To be honest, Booker had barely thought about food since he had that pizza. Food was the last thing on his mind and she had done so much for him already.

She walks to the door and opens it this time, “Remember, you can call me if you need anything…and try on those clothes. New clothes will make you feel like a new man. Goodnight Booker.”

He watches her walk down the hall and disappear around the corner before shutting the door. _A new man, huh?_ Booker was certain he needed more than new clothes for that.

 

**Your POV**

So Booker was dreaming about his wife when he called you Annabelle. Well, he wasn’t actually talking to you, but it was still pretty weird hearing your middle name when only a few people knew it. You wanted to chalk it up to another coincidence but deep down there was something more. Something was drawing you to this man and it all started the day you met him.

You weren’t one to believe in fate…or were you? Booker was sent to you for a reason and it was up to you to figure that reason out.

As you make your way home you find yourself thinking about Booker more and more. He had opened up to you. You were the only friend he had right now. He was afraid but he’d never admit that. Hell, you were afraid too but you had to be strong.

_____________________________

You took a nice, hot shower to relax then got into your bed, checking your phone. _Nothing. He’s fine, you’ll see him tomorrow._

You turn over to touch the photo of Zachary on the bedside table and you drift off to sleep.

________________________________

The blaring alarm wakes you from your slumber. You slept well but you still felt exhausted. The only notification on your phone was a message from Moretti telling you that the Captain needed to see you when you got to work. It could be anything but your anxiety made you think the worst.

You get out of bed and dress quickly hoping that you didn’t look too run down.

Each mile you drove made you more nervous. What could the Captain want? You hadn’t done anything wrong, had you?

_Guess you’ll find out soon…_

You park in your spot and walk into the building. You mentally prepare yourself for whatever the day might bring.

As you walk to your desk you notice everyone quiets down and gives you strange looks. _Okay, not good._

Your partner gives you a quick smile but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Moretti, what’s going on?” He only sighs and looks down.

[Y/N],” the captain calls from his office, “Moretti you come here too.”

_What the hell?_

You walk into his office slowly, your partner close behind. The captain starts, “Moretti has expressed some concern about your well-being lately.”

You shoot him a look, “My well-being…is that so?”

“I have to agree,” the captain says and you can hardly believe what’s going on.

“Sir, I just haven’t been sleeping well and it’s been taking a toll on me, but has it really affected my work that badly? I still get the job done, don’t I?”

The captain nods but you know he won’t change his mind. “You should take a break, you know…you’re one of our best and we don’t want you getting overworked.”

“Overworked? Sir, I’m fine. I _need_ to work…I have to do _something._ ” You could feel a panic attack coming on. Not working…alone with your thoughts all day. A vacation was the last thing you needed.

“Captain…”

He holds up his hand, “Just for a little while. Your job will be here, I promise.”

So that was it. Your own partner, your captain…just dropping you. Without saying a word, you walk out, your eyes filling with tears. Everyone is still looking at you so you lower your eyes and walk to the elevator.

“[Y/N],” Moretti calls and you stop without turning around.

“What?” you huff.

“It’s nothing personal, I swear. I’m just worried about you especially after that guy from the other day.”

“His name is Booker,” you turn to look your partner in the eye.

“Whatever happened to him anyway?” he asks.

“I…he’s fine. I took care of it…” You turn away from Moretti to press the button for the elevator.

Moretti sighs loudly, “Maybe you can go out to that place you and Zach were working on…the place by the lighthouse that you loved so much.”

 _Loved_ was the keyword. You didn’t think you could deal with going to that place without Zachary.

“Maybe,” you say as you step onto the elevator.

_You would always have the lighthouse._


	6. Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your hiding place for Booker is compromised and you two go on a little shopping trip.

**Your POV**

You sat in your car and cried for God knows how long. What were you going to do? Work was all you ever knew. Ever since Zachary died, work was all you had to distract yourself. If you were left alone with your thoughts too long…well…you didn’t want to think about it.

You look at yourself in the rearview mirror. “Keep it together, [y/n],” you whisper.

The crying stopped but now you were just angry; you felt betrayed. Moretti was supposed to have your back not stab you in it.

You start the car and find yourself driving to the hotel without even thinking about it. Booker is not going to want to hear your sob story so you tell yourself to avoid talking about work period.

__________

The drive to the hotel seemed shorter this time. Your park your car and check your face in the mirror. Your eyes were a little puffy but nothing too noticeable.

The man at the front desk smiles at you as you head towards the stairs. You can only imagine what he’s thinking.

You find yourself hesitating in front of the door. For what? No idea.

While unlocking the door you also knock just in case. “Booker, you decent?” You hear some scrambling then the door swings open, pulling you along with it. “Whoa!” You nearly fall over but Booker grabs you and apologizes.

“I am sorry. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine…are you okay?”

“I-I was resting and I guess I was dreaming…” Booker stops but you completely understand. You were still really close to him so you back up a little and that’s when you notice the clothes.

“Well, well…let me look at you.” You smile as he holds his arms out and shrugs.

“What do you think?” he asks looking at you expectantly. Booker obviously had a thing for button down shirts and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t like them on him.

He had the shirt tucked into the jeans and it made you giggle. Booker looks down at himself then back at you, “What is it?”

“It looks good, really, but I think the shirt would look better not tucked in. I mean, you have the right idea and I’m not saying you can’t tuck it in but…you know…” You walk closer to him again and start pulling the shirt out of the jeans.

“O…kay…” Booker says taken by surprise.

“Sorry,” you say blushing. “Um, would you rather wear slacks?”

Booker shakes his head, “No, no…this is fine. I’m comfortable.”

You back up again to look at him, “Perfect.” Suddenly there’s a knock on the door. Both you and Booker look at the door then at each other. You shrug and walk to the door slowly, looking through the peephole once you reach it. “What the hell?!” you whisper angrily.

“[Y/N], what’s wrong?” Booker asks, walking to you. You stop him by holding up a finger. You open the door and look out, “What are you doing here, Moretti?” You can feel your hands shaking.

“I followed you. I was worried,” he says.

“Worried about me? Haven’t you done enough of that already?”

Moretti makes a face and tries to look past you. “What do you want?” you ask.

“Well, I asked the guy downstairs and he said you came here with a guy.” He looks at you expecting you to tell him something.

“That’s no one’s business but mine. Anything else? I am trying to enjoy my time off.”

“Right…if you need anything, I’m a phone call away,” Moretti says.

“Okay, thanks. Bye.” You shut the door without taking a second look at him. Booker is still standing in the same spot he stopped in.

“Everything all right?”

Your eyes fill with tears, “No.”

 

**Booker’s POV**

He was never good with crying women, but he had to do something.

“Come on over here and sit down.” Booker puts his hand on her back and leads her to one of the chairs. “Now if you don’t mind me asking, what’s wrong?”

[Y/N] takes a deep breath, more tears spilling from her eyes. “They’re forcing me to take time off work. I…I don’t know what to do if I’m not working…I’m useless.”

Booker kneels in front of her and takes her hand, “You’re far from useless. Just look at all you’ve done for me in such a short time.”

She gives him a sad smile and he gets the urge to wipe the tears from her face but doesn’t.

“They said they don’t want me getting _overworked,_ that I haven’t been the same since my husband died.” Her voice cracks on the last word. Booker could relate, he hadn’t been the same since his wife died. “My partner blames you…”

He looks at her then. It _was_ his fault, wasn’t it? All the things happening to her since she met him... “He’s right,” Booker says letting go of her hand and standing. “I should have never pulled you into all of this.”

She wipes her eyes and stands up as well, “You didn’t pull me into anything, Booker. I could have walked out of that interrogation room the other day and brushed this off as some prank. I could have called you just another drunk or drug addict but I didn’t. _Something_ made me believe you and something is keeping me around. I am capable of making my own choices, Booker, and my choice right now is helping you.”

That was nicest thing anyone had said to him in a very long time and she really meant it. “I am grateful for you, detective, I really am. I couldn’t ask for a better partner, a better friend, in this situation.”

She blinks a few times and more tears fall from her eyes. Suddenly she’s hugging him and it takes him by surprise. He hesitates but finally puts his arms around her, engulfing her.

“I’m sorry. I’m getting your shirt all wet,” she pulls away and Booker kind of wants to pull her back. “You can’t stay here anymore,” she blurts out and he is so busy thinking he almost misses it.

“What why?”

“My partner knows, well, he knows there’s a guy staying here. If he finds out it’s you, I’ll never hear the end of it.” She starts packing things into the bag and box she brought the clothes in. This poor woman…

Booker had come into her life and changed it so much already and not for the better.

“I have a place you can go…we can go. It’ll probably be a better place to deal with all of this, but first we have to go to the grocery store.”

Right on cue, Booker’s stomach growls and [y/n] gives him an amused look.

“My apologies,” he says feeling foolish.

“Don’t apologize for being hungry. Let’s go get some food.”

He grabs the box and she grabs the bag. She gives the keys back to the man at the front desk and they walk out to her car.

Booker thinks of a question but he’s not sure if he should ask it. _Aw what the hell._ “Uh, [y/n]…why _are_ you helping me?” He was genuinely interested in her answer.

She starts the car and turns to look at him, “I guess I just have a natural tendency to want to help people. Besides, you’re a good man, I can tell.” She gives him a warm smile and starts to drive.

Would she think he was so good if she found out everything about him? There was more than just the gambling and drinking. Booker was a terrible person, at least that’s what he thought of himself, but [y/n] saw good in him.

_So did Annabelle. She saw good in everyone._

He really needed to stop comparing her to Annabelle. She was her own person…and yet Booker couldn’t help but to compare every woman to his late wife, especially her.

“Penny for your thoughts,” she mocks.

“I’m just wondering how I’m ever going to pay you back for all of this.” It wasn’t the complete truth but that had been sitting at the back of his mind.

“I guess you can start by helping me make dinner tonight.” She parks the car and says, “Let’s go!” excitedly.

Booker DeWitt cooking…now that was something even he had to laugh at, “There’s a first time for everything,” he says to himself as he gets out of the automobile and follows [y/n] into the store.

 

**Your POV**

You found yourself looking at Booker with amusement. The way he was looking around the store made him look like a lost puppy. “You can hold my hand if you’re afraid,” you tease.

He gives you his best ‘I ain’t afraid of anything’ face and looks straight ahead.

“So is there anything else I should know about you, Mr. DeWitt?”

He keeps looking forward, purposely avoiding eye contact, but you can see the quick sideway glance he gives you. “Perhaps we should save that for another time,” he says.

“No problem.” You walk down one of the aisles and start grabbing a few things, “Do you like spaghetti?”

“I’m sure I’ll like whatever you make, detective.”

“Remember, you’re helping me. I won’t let you forget.” Booker actually looked nervous and you snicker, grabbing more things off the shelves.

The next aisle had the alcohol. You thought a nice glass of wine would go well with spaghetti. You turn down the aisle and look over only to find that Booker was no longer walking beside you. You look back and see him standing at the end of the aisle looking side to side then down.

 _Shit…_ You remember the smell of alcohol coming off of him in the interrogation room. He hadn’t told you but you could guess that he probably had a drinking problem. You decide that it’s best to skip the wine and walk back to him.

“I think we have everything we need for tonight and more,” you smile up at him.

“You didn’t get anything from…down there,” Booker points out.

“I decided I didn’t need it. How about some pop instead?” _Did I really just say pop?_

“Don’t let me stop you from getting what you want,” he says.

“No one stops me from doing anything I want to do, Mr. DeWitt. Remember that.”

“Yes ma’am,” Booker nods at you.

As the cashier rings up the groceries and Booker picks up and looks at almost everything around him, you realized that everything would be okay. You would help Booker find his daughter, get him back to this time, and get back to work.

He must see the look on your face, “What brought that smile on?” he asks.

“I just have a feeling that everything is going to work out. Everything will be okay.” You smile at him and he smiles back.

Little did you know…life _and_ time had other plans for you.


	7. Danger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Booker take a little roadtrip to start your 'vacation' and you suggest something that can change everything...

**Your POV**

You knew it would be a long drive so you stopped for gas and then some coffee. Booker stayed in the car while you ran into the Starbucks and ordered two coffees.

He must have seen you walking back to the car because he jumps out and opens the door for you.

“Booker, you didn’t have to do that,” you say as you get into the car and he closes the door. When he gets back in, you hand him a coffee.

“You really didn’t have to. You’ve done so much already.”

“It’s a coffee, no big deal. Enjoy it. I wasn’t sure how you took it so if you don’t like it you don’t have to drink it.” Why did you always seem to ramble around him?

You watch as he takes a sip, waiting to see if he likes it. “No?” you ask.

“Actually it’s perfect,” he says with a smile. You find yourself sighing in relief as you start the car.

“We have a long drive ahead of us. Should we talk or just listen to the radio?”

“What would you like to do, detective?”

“I’d actually like to know more about you, Mr. DeWitt…if that’s okay.” _Please,_ you think. You can see him hesitate a bit but then he complies.

“What would you like to know?”

“I’ll start with a not so complicated question first: have you ever been outside of the United States?” The question you had asked was much more complicated than you thought as you were about to find out.

Booker sighs, takes a sip of coffee then begins, “Well, you already know about my role at Wounded Knee. Most places I try to forget because the memories are so bad. I’ve been to Columbia…”

There were so many different Columbias within the U.S. so you had to ask for more details. “Which Columbia? There are so many.” You weren’t even close to prepared for the answer you were about to get.

“Columbia…the flying city…” Booker answers and if you could turn to look at him in shock you would. All of the sudden you start to laugh.

“A flying city? Are you making fun of me and my childhood fantasies now?” You take a quick look at Booker and he looks offended.

“No, I would never. Is that what you think of me?”

“I’m sorry, I just can’t believe in a flying city. That’s fairytale stuff, you know.” You weren’t so sure anymore. Anything could be true according to the way your life was going now. The logical side was telling you not to believe any of it but you also knew that Booker wouldn’t make this up, would he?

“I’m far from a decent human being but I would not lie to you. I’ve hurt too many people in my life, I want to change that. You’re the only friend I have now, detective.”

The sadness in his voice went straight to your heart. “None of us are perfect, Booker, and I told you before I will not judge you for the things you’ve done in the past.”

“You haven’t heard it all…”

“There is very little I haven’t heard in my line of work.”

Booker is silent for a long time, most likely thinking. You won’t push the subject but eventually you would have to know.

_Maybe if you open up to him a little more, it’s only fair._

“I’m far from a decent human being as well,” you say and he looks at you, eyebrows raised.

“I find that hard to believe.”

“A lot of people do but we all have demons. I have plenty.” You noticed you weren’t quite ready to open up yet either. “How about we listen to some music?” You turn on the radio and stare straight ahead. The sooner you got there the better.

______________________

**Booker’s POV**

Booker stole quick glances at her as she drove. She gripped the steering wheel nervously and kept sighing. She was obviously holding something back but it wasn’t his place to make her talk about it.

Eventually she loosens up and starts humming along with a song on the radio.

“Do you like to sing?” he asks.

“I used to,” she responds sadly. “How about you?”

“I used to but I guess I really haven’t had to time to lately. The things I used to enjoy just aren’t as enjoyable anymore, if that makes sense.”

She nods, “I completely understand.” She pulls up to a beautiful house with a car already in the driveway. “We’re here,” she says but makes no move to get out of the car.

“You miss her a lot, don’t you?”

Booker didn’t need to ask who ‘she’ was, “Yes, I do. Every day I feel the memories fading and I don’t want that to happen. That’s why I need to find my daughter, she is all I have left.”

[Y/N] sighs and looks at him, “We’ll find her, I promise.” She gets out of the car and starts taking the bags inside.

Booker gets out to help her and he feels lighter. He believed her. They would find his daughter and everything would go back to the way it should. They finish carrying the bags into the house and [y/n] starts putting the groceries away.

“You can take a look around if you like, I’ll start dinner.”

Booker rolls up his sleeves a little more, “No ma’am, I am here to help. Isn’t that what you said?”

She giggles, “You’re right, I did say you would help me. Hmm, let’s see…can you boil water?”

He tilts his head slightly and squints, “Funny.”

She hands him a pot of water and he looks around for the stove. “Um Booker, it’s right there.”

“Right. I knew that.” He places the pot on the stove and she turns it on. That was probably for the best, he honestly had no idea what he was doing.

“While this is boiling go on and familiarize yourself with the place. Go,” she said kindly and Booker had a feeling she just wanted him out of the kitchen.

“Fine but if you need some assistance don’t hesitate to ask.” She rolls her eyes and Booker laughs.

He looks around, trying not to be too invasive. He finds a picture of [y/n] and someone who had to be Zachary. They were smiling and looked truly happy.

 _Why did bad things happen to good people?_ Booker thought. He had deserved everything that happened to him but the detective, there was no reason for her to suffer.

He walks a little further into the house and comes to an open door. Peeking in he sees a guitar, a chair sitting by the window, a desk, and a few other things. The guitar brought back memories, ones he couldn’t deal with right now. He takes one last look out the window in the room and spots a lighthouse in the distance…another thing he couldn’t think about right now.

Walking some more he reaches the back door which leads to the patio. Booker walks out and sits in one of the chairs. This was a nice place for [y/n] to come to relax but they weren’t here to relax, were they…thanks to him.

 

***SOME TIME LATER***

Booker must have been more tired than he thought. He dreamt of lighthouses and tears and his daughter. He heard a voice calling his name from far away then someone touched him and he grabbed their hand.

“Booker,” he heard a gentle voice say. The small hand in his was trying to wriggle free. “It’s just me. Dinner is ready.” She sounded frightened and he felt horrible.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Come on.” She pulls her hand free and walks back into the house with Booker following close behind.

“I hope you’re hungry,” she says cheerfully as they reach the kitchen.

“It smells delicious.” He was starving and he couldn’t remember the last time he had a home cooked meal.

Booker pulls the chair out for her. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” he says as he walks to the other chair to sit. She looks up at him and freezes. “Everything all right?” he asks.

“Yeah sorry, I’m just not used to being here with anyone else besides Zach…especially another man.” She blushes slightly and smiles. “Well, dig in.” She watches as he takes his first bite and looks at him excitedly.

“That’s some good spaghetti,” he says and [y/n] clasps her hands together happily.

They eat quietly for a while then Booker breaks the silence. “Do you play guitar? I was snooping again and I saw one.”

“Oh, that was my husband’s…he loved to play and sing. I would sing with him sometimes.”

Booker nods and looks at her.

“He loved to sit in there and play music. He loved looking at the lighthouse, said it inspired him. We should go check it out, by the way.”

“Th-the lighthouse?” Booker asks.

“Yes. It’s closed to the public, property of the Coast Guard but since Zach was in the military I get special access, sort of. We always talked about going but never got the chance. Want to check it out?”

“Why not?” Booker shrugs. There were plenty of reasons why they shouldn’t…

“It’s so tempting…just sitting there untouched. I don’t think we’ll be in any danger.”

_There could be more danger than you think, sweetheart…way more._


	8. The Lighthouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You finally get to visit the lighthouse and certain things come to light.

**Your POV**

Booker seemed a little nervous when you mentioned going to the lighthouse but you didn’t think much of it. This was the most relaxed you had seen him since you met him and it was a nice change. There were still so many questions you wanted to ask but you would save them for another time.

After eating, you washed the dishes and Booker insisted on helping. “You really don’t have to,” you tell him.

“I know I don’t have to, I want to.” He sounded so much like Zachary sometimes it was scary. As he dries the last dish you tell him that he can sleep in the guest bedroom.

“There’s a bathroom right across the hall. I’ll get you a blanket and a towel, just in case you want to shower.”

“Much obliged.”

You laugh at how formal he is. “Come on, I’ll show you where the room is.” You lead him down the hall and stop at the third door. “Here it is.”

You open the door and step in. Everything was still the same, of course. You don’t know why you were expecting anything to be different.

“You’re the first person to ever use this room.”

Booker only makes a small sound as he looks around.

“Like I said, the bathroom is right across the hall. Oh yeah, let me grab that stuff for you.” You go to the closet and grab some things that he may need. “Do you need anything else?”

“No, ma’am. That’ll do.” Booker gives you a small smile.

“Okay, I’ll be right upstairs if you need anything. I don’t sleep very well so sometimes I like to come downstairs and watch TV. If you hear any noise or anything it’s probably me.” Why were you rambling?

“I’ll leave you to it. Goodnight Booker.”

He nods, “Goodnight Y/N.”

You go upstairs and take a shower. People always say that showers help you to relax but they never truly relaxed you. All you did was think and it was always about something bad. You turn the shower off before your thoughts wandered too far.

You looked at yourself in the mirror but not for too long. After that incident back home, you tried to stay away from mirrors. You were tired and didn’t need people trying to talk to you through mirrors or anything else tonight.

As you put on your pajamas, you realize that you didn’t show Booker how to turn on the shower. It shouldn’t be that hard for him though.

Getting into bed felt so good but you wished you could actually sleep. You had to spend at least two hours staring at the ceiling, rolling over on your side, then staring at the ceiling again. You gave up. Time to go downstairs and watch some TV.

You put on your robe and move as quietly as you can but something stopped you in your tracks when you reached the last step. Music. Guitar to be exact and singing. It was a song that you know like the back of your hand. You followed the sign until it got clearer.

“Will the circle be unbroken, by and by…by and by…” You stand outside the door listening to Booker sing. Eventually the music stops and you knock on the door.

“Booker?” There’s some movement then the door opens.

“I hope I didn’t wake you…and I’m sorry for touching the guitar, I just couldn’t resist.”

“It’s fine, really and I told you I don’t really sleep. I came downstairs to watch TV and I heard you. It was beautiful.”

Booker shrugs, “I don’t know what came over me…”

You could see that his hair was still slightly wet. “You were able to figure out the shower then?” you ask.

“It took me some time but yes, thank you.”

You stand there awkwardly for a moment and he clears his throat. “Would you like to watch TV with me?”

“Okay,” he says and follows you to the living room. You turn on the television and The Twilight Zone is on.

“You’ll love this show.”

Booker doesn’t really seem to get it at first but after a few episodes he’s really into it. You watch until your eyes get too heavy to keep open.

You knew you fell asleep on the couch but when you wake up you’re in your bed under your blanket.

\----------------------------------

You get out of bed, throw on some comfortable clothes, and go downstairs to make some breakfast. You didn’t hear music this time so you assumed that Booker was sleeping.

It was raining pretty hard out so you thought it best to postpone you little outing to the lighthouse.

“It’s really coming down out there, huh?” Booker says and you almost scream.

You put your hand over your heart, “You sure move quietly.”

“I didn’t mean to frighten you, I apologize.”

You shake your head, “It’s fine. Would you like some breakfast?”

“Sure.” You show him where the plates are, you give him his food first then you make yourself a plate. When you sit you tell him that the trip to the lighthouse may have to wait.

“Don’t like the rain?” he asks.

“I love rain…it’s just that we have to use a boat to get to the lighthouse and I really don’t feel like rowing in the rain, do you?”

“I don’t mind,” he says.

“You make it sound like you’ve done this before,” you say and you swear you see his expression change slightly. “Let’s at least wait until it slows down a bit.”

Booker nods and finishes his breakfast. When he stands, you notice he has his old clothes on. “Are you going to be comfortable rowing and climbing stairs in that?”

He looks down at his clothes. “I’ve done a lot more in this outfit.” You could only imagine what he was talking about.

**-A FEW HOURS LATER-**

Booker had kept his word, he helped you row. It was a long trip but your arms got tired after a little while.

When you reached the lighthouse, you helped Booker pull the boat onto land. “It’s much bigger than I thought it would be,” you say looking up at the lighthouse. Booker still looked uneasy. “Are you okay?” you ask him.

“Yes…” He stops but you can tell he wanted to say more.

“If you don’t want to come in, you don’t have to.”

Booker looks at you, “I’m coming in with you. You can’t go in there alone.”

“It’s an abandoned lighthouse, I’ll be okay.”

“Wait, let me go in first,” Booker cuts in front of you as you walk up the steps to the entrance.

“Did you have a bad experience with lighthouses or something?” you ask jokingly but his face is serious as he turns to look at you before opening the door. “Booker…”

“Come on,” he says before you can finish your thought.

 

**Booker’s POV**

He knew he should tell her so why couldn’t he?

The ‘lighthouse’ he remembered was in Maine but this one wasn’t much different. She was so innocent in all of this. This was just a lighthouse to her but to him it was so much more.

What would happen if she found out that this was all planned, that he needed this to happen? She was his key to getting Anna back. He would make sure she didn’t get hurt, that wasn’t his intention, but he needed to get her to Columbia.

Why the Luteces picked her, he didn’t know but somehow they knew he’d be drawn to her. It couldn’t have been a coincidence that she shared a name with his late wife. He shook his head. He was thinking too much about it. She would never forgive him when she found out.

“Booker, you still with me?”

“Yes, sorry.”

“How old do you think all this stuff is? It’s so cool,” she says walking around. “What do you think is on the second level?”

Booker shrugs,” Let’s go see…I’ll go first.” They look around the next level and she’s still so fascinated while he became more nervous.

“The next level should be where the light is, right?” she asks excitedly.

“Right,” he answers but he knew there would be no light.

She freezes when she reaches the top step. “Is-is that a chair?”

Booker couldn’t bring himself to look at her, “It is.”

“Why do you think it’s here?”

“I…I don’t know…” He can feel her eyes on him.

“What are you keeping from me?”

He takes a deep breath and finally looks at her, “We need to go to Columbia.”

She gives him a confused look, “That city in the sky you told me about?”

He nods and points to the chair, “That’s our way there.”

“You knew about this being here?”

Booker can only nod and she is silent for a long time. “Okay, let’s go. If this is how we find your daughter, I’ll do it…but there is a way for me to get back, right?”

“Of course, yes,” Booker says. He really didn’t know. He couldn’t believe he was lying to her this way. He wasn’t even sure how he could protect her but he would do everything in his power to keep her safe.

Booker watched as she sat down nervously. He would be prepared for Columbia this time but Y/N had no idea what she was about to see.


	9. Welcome to Columbia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Columbia seems like a lovely place so why is Booker acting so strangely...

**Your POV**

You didn’t like this one bit. You were about to travel through time to a place that shouldn’t exist. This had to be a dream.

When the ‘lighthouse’ starts shaking, you subconsciously grab Booker’s hand.

“Hey, look at me,” he says. You look at him and automatically feel relaxed. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you, okay?”

You stare into his green eyes and nod, “Okay.” He squeezes your hand and everything starts to shift around you. The feeling of weightlessness consumes you and you let go of Booker’s hand only to wrap your arms around him. “Booker!” You didn’t like this feeling at all.

Your eyes had been open this whole time but when you look out and see that you’re way above the ground, you squeeze them shut.

_This isn’t happening! Wake up!_

You want to scream. Why did you agree to this? Booker inhales sharply and you open your eyes to look at him. His eyes are wide open, staring at something outside of this…thing. You turn to look at what got his attention and see nothing but clouds. Suddenly, something comes into view and… _no, it couldn’t be._

Your arms fall from around Booker which finally makes him look at you.

“Is that…?”

“Yes...a church,” he says. He couldn’t sound less enthused if he tried.

“Booker, what is it?” You were scared. You didn’t need him going silent on you.

“I just…thought of somethin’ is all.” There was more to that but you didn’t want to press the matter, he already seemed upset.

A door opens in front of you and you jump then look at Booker. “Just stay close,” he says, walking out slowly. You do just as he says. You’re so close you step on his heels a few times. “Not that close,” he finally says in a whisper.

“Why are you-?” _Whispering,_ you were going to say but then you hear it. Singing. It sounded like a choir. This was really a church. “Where are we?” you ask but Booker only shushes you and keeps walking.

He stops short and you walk into him. “You have to get baptized.”

“What…why?”

“I don’t know; you just have to…at least that’s what worked last time.”

The singing gets louder and louder and you finally find the source: a group of people standing in water. Booker keeps walking but you’re ready to run in the other direction. “Are you sure about this?” you ask.

“Do you trust me?” he asks and you nod. “Everything will be okay.”

You take a deep breath. As you two get closer, everyone turns to you and the man you assume is the priest says something about being cleansed of your sins to enter Columbia. This time Booker is the one that grabs your hand as you walk into the water. “Just hold your breath,” he says, holding your hand tightly, “For as long as you can.”

Before you can say anything, your head is being forced underwater. You open your eyes only to see the priest holding you down with an almost menacing look on his face. You no longer feel Booker’s hand and you start to thrash. _This man is trying to kill me!_ The world starts to darken around you then you hear someone calling your name, shaking you gently.

“Come on, you’re all right,” he says. You try to speak but you only cough up water.

“Booker?”

“Right here.” He looks down at you with those big eyes of his and smiles, well, his version of a smile. He helps you to your feet and asks if you’re okay.

“I think so…I never want to be baptized again,” you say.

“Tell me about it.”

You finally take the time to look around you. It was beautiful, even better than your childhood dreams. “It’s beautiful.”

“That’s what I thought the first time, too,” Booker says. He was scaring you. Was something bad going to happen?

As he walked you further into Columbia, you could only take in its beauty. You see nothing wrong but obviously he knew something and wasn’t telling you.

 

**Booker’s POV**

Booker wanted to tell her everything. She needed to know how dangerous Columbia was but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. She was probably already terrified.

He watched her closely as she took everything in. Suddenly she stops, “Do you hear that?” she asks.

“Hear what?”

“Music!” she says excitedly and goes to follow it.

He tries to grab her but she was too quick. “Wait…(Y/N) get back over here!”

“What’s wrong? Don’t you like music?” she asks, running ahead of him/

“I like music just fine, it’s just…(Y/N)!”

She squeezed herself into the circle of people watching the dancers, getting a few strange glances here and there.

 _Her clothing._ He had forgotten all about that. Someone would get suspicious if they weren’t careful. He walked up and stood beside her, “We have to get you out of those clothes,” he says quietly as to not draw attention. She gives him a funny look and he realizes what that must have sounded like, “I, uh, only meant that…”

She laughs. It was such a sweet sound. “I know what you meant, Booker but how am I going to get clothes? I don’t have money.”

He grabs her by the elbow to pull her away from the crowd, “You let me worry about that.” He walks her to a storefront and her face falls.

“I have to wear a _dress_?”

“Does it matter? You’re sticking out like a sore thumb right now.”

“Fine,” she says reluctantly and walks into the store.

A saleswoman approaches them with a huge smile, “How can I…help you?” The last words came out slowly as they took in (Y/N)’s appearance.

Booker moved in front of her, “Just a nice outfit for the lady, please.”

“Of course, sir.” She walks them towards the back of the store. “It’s so nice to see husband’s buying things for their wives,” she says as she points out some corsets.

(Y/N) coughs behind him and he stammers, “Sh-she’s not…yes, thank you.”

“I am _not_ wearing a corset,” she says quietly behind him.

“Ma’am, my… _partner_ does not like corsets, I’m afraid.”

“A nice blouse and a skirt then?” the woman asks.

“That’s fine,” (Y/N) says stepping from behind him. She goes off with the saleswoman as he finds somewhere to sit and wait. He feels a warmness come to his cheeks as he remembers the woman calling (Y/N) his wife.

He closed his eyes and sighed suddenly feeling very tired.

\-------------------------

“Sir!” someone called and he opens his eyes. How long was he waiting? “Your wife is ready. What do you think?”

(Y/N) walks over to where he is sitting. Her hair had been braided and was hanging over her shoulder. She was wearing a white blouse tucked into a long, dark green skirt, and black boots.

He stood slowly, arms hanging limply at his sides as he stared at her.

“Well?” she asks.

“You look…,” he shakes his head, “It’ll do. How much?” he asks. The saleswoman tells him the price and he parts her. He leaves the store quickly, (Y/N) struggling to keep up.

“Booker, you’ve been acting strange ever since we got here. What are you not telling me?”

“I just want to do what I came here to do and leave. I don’t like this place.” It came out harsher than he wanted it to. He was just walking now, he had no idea where…he just wanted to keep moving.

He turns to make sure (Y/N) was still with him but she wasn’t. She had stopped a few feet back and was staring at something. “I told you to stay close!” he growls as he stomps over to her. “What are you looking…?” He looks up and sees the poster.

 _Beware the False Shepherd._ The hand with AD on it. She had seen the mark on his hand the day they met. “Booker?” she looks at him and he tries to touch her but she moves away. “You need to tell me everything before we go any further…and I mean _everything_ this time.”

He sighs. He had told her a lot already but this was a new chapter that she might not be prepared for. “Where do I start?”


	10. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your first day in Columbia started off well, but things go downhill pretty quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been forever and I apologize!

**Your POV**

You trusted Booker, but everything he was telling you was worrying. The one thing you didn’t understand, that you hadn’t thought about before is why you were here. You agreed to come along, yes, but at what cost?

“I don’t belong here,” you say quietly. “Why did I agree to this?” You wanted to see if Booker was telling the truth, of course.

“We _really_ should keep moving,” he says.

“Where though, Booker? We’re not safe here going by what you told me.”

“ _I’m_ not safe here,” he emphasized.

“Yes and I’m with you which puts us both in danger. Maybe we should split up-”

“Are you crazy?!” His voice rises suddenly and makes you flinch. “You don’t understand just how brutal this place can be. You won’t be safe.”

You shake your head, “I’m not safe with you, I’m not safe without you…Booker, maybe I should just go…”

“You can’t!” His voice startles you again and you look at him, shocked. “I…I need you, you understand?” You didn’t understand but nodded anyway. Obviously he was capable of some wild things and getting on his bad side was not a good idea.

“Where will we go?” You were weary and going by the looks of him, Booker was too. He just starts walking so you follow silently for a time. “The False Shepherd…why?” you ask warily. “You’re not keeping any other secrets from me, are you?”

He continues to walk, letting out a long sigh. “When we get somewhere relatively safe, you may ask all the questions you like, but for now _keep moving_.” There was an affliction in his tone that made you want to comfort him, but he wouldn’t like that.

He leads you to what may once have been an illustrious mansion, but was now in disrepair. “What is…or _was_ this place?” you ask, stopping to stare at the expansive house.

“A place of nightmares just like the rest of Columbia…but this was where all the bad things started…” Booker pushes on the door and it opens immediately.

As soon as you walk in, you felt something eerie like you were being watched. “What is this place called?”

“Comstock House.”

“I don’t like it,” you say, moving closer to him.

“Neither do I but it’s all we have right now.” After looking around a little more, you brush some debris off a chaise lounge and sit down, sighing loudly. “I’ll be right back,” Booker tells you and you jump up.

“Don’t leave me alone here.”

“I won’t be gone long. I’ll leave the weapons with you. Does that make you feel better?”

You shake your head, “Not really. I don’t want to be alone in this place.”

“Just stay put.” His voice was gentle, different. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” There was no use in arguing with him. Clearly he believed you would be okay.

“Okay…fine, but please be quick about it.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He walks out, taking one last look at you before closing the door. Now what? You sit down and start dozing until a low humming sound jolts you awake. The sound grows louder and a strange light appears before you. The light turns into some kind of opening and a hand reaches through, beckoning to you.

“Wh-what do you want from me?!” you cower at the edge of the sofa. Two figures appear before you, the same ones you saw speaking to Booker when you first met him. “Who are you?” He had told you their names but you weren’t thinking clearly at the moment.

“We don’t want anything _from_ you,” the woman says. “We just want you,” the man finishes. “A girl for the girl. I say that’s a fair trade.”

“Yes, brother, it is.”

You can only shake your head and look back and forth between the two.

“Mr. DeWitt won’t let you go so easily. You remind him of his Annabelle,” the man speaks again.

“But he has to let her go, dear Robert.”

“No,” you shake your head wildly, “He wouldn’t!”

The brother and sister look at you, “Booker DeWitt is not a man you can trust. He hasn’t even told you why he brought you here…”

“Shut up!” you scream. He was all you had…you had to trust him. You stand and approach the two figures but when you reach out they disappear. This was all too much. You try to make it back to the seat, but your legs give out and your world fades to black.

 

**Booker’s POV**

He had heard her shout and was pounding on the door trying to get her attention. The door hadn’t been locked when he left you so why was it locked now?

He shouted her name and pushed against the door as hard as he could over and over again. “Damn it!” He was mad at himself. He should have just stayed with her.

One last push does the trick and he stumbles into the foyer, shouting her name again. When she doesn’t respond, he searches where he left her and spots her on the floor. “Oh god…(Y/N)!”

She groans when he turns her over carefully then her eyes pop open in panic. “Don’t touch me!” she screams, her arms flailing. “No!”

“What the…(Y/N), it’s me. It’s Booker!”

“They want me. They’re going to take me! You-” She stops and looks at him, “You knew…”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Mr. DeWitt,” she spat his name like venom. “A girl for the girl…you brought me here to give me to those _people_ to get your daughter back.” Tears start to fill her eyes and Booker has to look away. “I trusted you…”

“Annabelle…” He realizes his mistake too late.

“My name is not Annabelle! I am _not_ you _wife!_ ”

“I…I…”

She pushes him away and stands, “You were just going to leave me here.” He stands, unsure of what to say. Everything she was saying was true; he should have told her. “I understand that she’s your daughter and you would do anything to get her back but…”

“I was going to find a way to get you out of this. I wouldn’t have left you. I…” He stops himself before he goes too far.

“You what, Booker?”

He shakes his head, “Nothing. I told you I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you and I meant it.” She is silent for a time, looking at him then down at the floor. “You remind me of her,” he says and she lifts her head slowly. “Annabelle.”

She smiled sadly at him, “And you remind me of my Zach.”

Booker shakes his head, “Your Zachary was a good man, I am not.”

She sighs and looks around, “You’re going through all this to get your daughter back. While I don’t agree with the whole trading me for her thing, I guess I understand. You’ll do anything for her and that’s something, Booker. That says something about the kind of man you are.” He had never had someone speak so highly of him.

“Thank you, (Y/N), but there are things I’ve done…”

“We’ve all done things we’re less than proud of. You’ve told me a few things and when you’re ready you’ll tell me more, I hope.”

He nods, “So how are you feeling? Did you pass out or…?”

She takes a deep breath and he can see her hands shaking as she clasps them together, “I saw those…those people again. The ones who speak in riddles.”

“The Luteces?”

She nods, “I wish you would have told me all of this in the first place.”

“Would you have come if I did?” he asks and she looks at him for a long time.

“I probably would have called you crazy like everyone else. I just don’t understand how they knew about me, how you knew exactly where to find me. I’m not sure I want to know now.”

“It will all explain itself in time.” He reaches out and takes her hand, “I’m so sorry, (Y/N).”

She squeezes his hand, “This may sound crazy, but I forgive you. I am in the early 1900s and in a floating city, I guess nothing seems crazy anymore.” She laughs a little and he smiles. The last woman to make him do that was…

He lets go of her hand quickly and pretends to be looking around for something. “Let’s get some shut eye, hm?”

“I’m not so sure I can sleep…”

“You and I both. Let’s at least sit and rest a while.”

She shrugs, “Okay.” She sits on the chaise lounge and he takes the floor. “You’re not seriously going to sit on the floor, are you?”

“I’ll be fine.” He stretches his legs out in front of himself with a groan.

“Get up here. There’s enough room for the both of us.” He knew better than to argue. Standing, he brushes off his trousers and sits next to her. She automatically puts her head on his shoulder and his breath hitches. “Is this okay?” she asks.

“It’s fine.”

She tucks her legs up and starts to hum. He falls asleep and dreams. He dreams of Zachary Comstock, of _himself,_ and all the horrible things he has done. He didn’t want to be him, but he was. _I won’t hurt her again though. I won’t let anyone hurt her,_ he thinks to himself.

When he wakes, (Y/N) is still sleeping, curled up in a ball. “I promise,” he whispers to her.


	11. More Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You are the last piece of the puzzle. You have no idea what that means, but you're about to find out.

You wake with a start nearly rolling off the sofa onto the floor. If it wasn’t for the warm hand you felt over yours, you would have thought you were alone. You look up at the man the hand belongs to. This was the second time you watched Booker as he slept; he looked so peaceful. You wondered if the man has ever had a truly peaceful moment in his life besides when he was asleep.

Your stomach growls loudly and you realize just how hungry you are. You move as quietly as you can and make your way to the door; surely, they had food here in Columbia. If Booker could wake up and have something to eat that would be great. Booker had given you a few Silver Eagles and you hoped it would cover food for two.

The only things available were hot dogs, popcorn, and fruit. You grab some fruit and popcorn for yourself and a hot dog for Booker and wished for the best.

Little did you know, he was panicking because you were missing.

When you push through the doors of Comstock House you are met with Booker and the barrel of his pistol aimed straight at your face. You yelp and nearly drop the food. “Christ, Booker! It’s me!”

He breathes a sigh of relief and lowers the gun, glowering at you, “Where the hell were you?!” He grabs your arm, pulls you inside, and slams the door.

“I was getting us some… _food_!” You pull your arm out of his grip and glare at him. “What’s the big deal?” you ask, looking for a place to set the food.

“I told you how dangerous this place is. You can’t just disappear without letting me know!” Booker’s eyes were on you but you avoided his gaze.

“Well, I’m back now and I’m fine,” you chuckle.

“It’s not a joke!” he shouts making you jump and turn around.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble.

He clears his throat then looks down, “I-I didn’t mean to shout at you. I just don’t want anything happening to you…”

“It’s fine,” you reply with a small smile. “I guess it’s nice to have someone that cares about me so much.”

“I care. I do…you know that, right?” he asks.

You nod, “I do, Booker. Thank you.” Things were getting a little too serious for you now so you change the subject. “Hungry?”

Booker shrugs, “Sure.”

“This was all I could find,” you say, handing him a hot dog.

“That’ll do.” He nods and takes the hot dog, brushing your hand ever so lightly. You pull away quicker than you need to but he doesn’t seem to notice.

The apple wasn’t so bad though you could use a nice, hot breakfast. Your mind starts to wander as you eat and you find yourself looking out one of the windows.

“Do me a favor…,” Booker starts.

“Get away from the window, I know,” you finish, walking over to where he was sitting. It was silent for some time and you were enjoying it until…

A voice comes from a loudspeaker, “The False Shepherd,” it says and Booker stands, grabbing your arm and pushing you behind him. “Have you corrupted another woman?” The voice was calm but frightening.

“Booker…,” you whisper.

“It’s alright,” he reassures you.

“We’ll get you away from him before he can do any more damage!” The voice stops abruptly then there is a loud sound at the door.

“Booker!” You say his name louder this time. “I’m scared…”

“You trust me, don’t you?” he asks and you nod.

Suddenly, that strange feeling comes over you and a tear opens on the other side of the room. “She’ll be safer with us, DeWitt. Tell her to come through.” Those voices…you knew them all too well now.

“She ain’t going anywhere without me,” Booker says but you walk towards the tear. “No!” he shouts, pulling you back. “What are you doing?”

“Helping you get your daughter back.”

“But…” he starts.

“If we split up it might give you a better chance. Besides, I’m the key, right? The last piece of the puzzle. This had to happen sooner or later.”

“I can’t. I don’t want to lose you too. There must be another way. I’ll find one just don’t go through that tear.” You could hear the sadness, the worry in his voice. He has lost so much already and was afraid of losing you.

“We’ll find each other,” you tell him, “We were destined to.”

He holds on to your hand as you step through and is reluctant to let go. As the tear begins to close, you snatch your hand away, unsure of what would happen if you leave it there as it closed. The look on Booker’s face as it did was one that would stay with you forever.

 

* * *

 

You turn around and take in your surroundings – what you could see of them, at least. It looked as though you were in a lab. There were spots on the floor and you didn’t want to think about what they could be. The bed in the middle of the room looked as though it has been used recently and it smelled like blood.

“Hello?” you called out. This wasn’t a place you wanted to be alone in, but you were also afraid of who or _what_ could show up.

“She’s here,” a familiar disembodied voice says.

“Where are you?”

The same voice speaks again but not to you, “Oh, she’s afraid…”

The familiar male voice joins in, “Well, wouldn’t you be afraid? Alone in an unfamiliar place _and time._ ”

_The twins._

“Where are you?!” you repeat but you knew you wouldn’t get a straightforward answer.

“We’re here, we’re there. It’s all up to you,” the woman answers.

“What the hell does that mean? Would you two stop playing games and tell me where I am and what’s going on?”

“You’re the one who will save Elizabeth’s life.”

“Booker’s daughter…how?” You felt silly talking to an empty room but nothing seemed unusual to you anymore especially here.

“One life for another.” That sounded ominous enough and now you weren’t too confident in your choice to come here alone.

“I’m going to die?”

“After a few experiments you might,” the man answers.

“Robert, don’t frighten her any more than she already is.”

You begin to panic, searching for an exit though you knew it would do you no good.

“So, you’re the one?” a sad voice asks from the dark.

“W-who…” She steps into what little light there is and you figure out who she is right away. “Elizabeth?”

“Nice to finally meet you.” She gives you a small smile, “Is Booker okay?”

You nod, “When I left him he was, though he’s probably not too happy about me coming here.” Tears fill your eyes but you quickly blink them away, clearing your throat. “Where are we?”

“An evil, horrible place. You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t have to…for me…” Elizabeth’s big blue eyes stare into yours and you see the same sadness you saw in Booker’s eyes.

“Don’t worry about me. Go find Booker. Find your father and take care of him – take care of each other.”

Elizabeth opens a tear and looks back at you, “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head and smile sadly. “Your father is a good man…”

“This time around,” she says quietly. “I wish we had more time to talk. There is so much you need to know.”

“I know enough. Now go and tell Booker I said thank you for taking me on this adventure. It didn’t end in a great way but I thank him all the same.”

Elizabeth nods and steps through the tear, leaving you frightened and alone. “Well,” you say, “Here I am! Do what you need to do just leave Booker and Elizabeth alone. Let them live their lives. Let them be happy.” You begin to cry.

You were afraid but you were also proud of yourself. Maybe this was how your life was supposed to end. Maybe you had done everything you needed to. Uniting father and daughter was a good ending to your story.

You smiled as two men seemed to appear out of thin air and began to strap you down to the bed in the center of the room. You smiled as one of the men flipped a switch and electricity buzzed around you. Even when they shoved something into the back of your neck and a tear escaped your eye, you smiled.

“What’s wrong, dear?” the man you assumed was the doctor asked.

“Nothing…I just wish I had a little more time.”

The doctor lets out a grating laugh, “Oh dear, didn’t you know…” You look at him, waiting for his answer, “Time rots everything.”

Then your world went black.


	12. Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've done what you came to Columbia to do, but is it over?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been months, I know. I will never abandon this story though, I promise. Please forgive me for the delay!

You don’t know where you are. You are not even sure if you are alive.

Suddenly, there was pain and…yes, you were alive but barely. Movement was impossible – you were either strapped down or just too weak to move. There were loud, banging sounds – Gun shots? Explosions? Shouting, maybe? You could be hallucinating.

You try to cry out. Maybe someone would hear you. A girl can dream, right?

Maybe this was all that it was…a dream. Your thoughts and memories came back to you in pieces. _Columbia…city in the sky…Elizabeth…Booker._ If it was possible for you to sit up now, you would have.

Booker! Elizabeth! You helped Elizabeth get out of this place and now you were the prisoner. Did she reach him? Were you able to reunite father and daughter? If so, your mission was complete. If you died today then it wouldn’t be in vain.

You blink a few times and let your eyes adjust to being open again. Wherever you were, it was dark except for one light shining on you. The room you were in smelled clean but there was also a hint of blood in the air and you have a feeling the blood came from you.

“Ah, she survived,” a woman’s voice says.

“So she did,” a man follows.

_The Luteces._ You chuckle bitterly, “Was I supposed to die?” Your voice was weaker than you expected.

“Dies, died, will die,” the twins say together. What is with these two and riddles?

“But I lived…”

“Lives, lived, will live,” the say this time.

“Stop please.” You shut your eyes, “Did Elizabeth find Booker? Are they safe?”

“As safe as you can expect them to be in a place like Columbia.”

You smile, “Well, I did what I had to do. I’m happy.”

“But you could die here…alone,” one of the twins points out.

“Then I get to be with Zachary again. I haven’t been happy since he died. I’ve been alone…or at least I was until…” Tears fill your eyes and you clear your throat.

“Ah, the False Shepherd. He led you here and left you for dead.”

“He did not!” You sit up suddenly, ignoring the pain shooting through your body. “It was my choice.”

“But he knew…,” the voice starts.

“Shut up! Just stop!” You put your head in your hands and cry. You could feel that they were gone now and you were alone again…the way you liked it. At least you thought you did.

When Zach died, your life had lost all meaning. You went to work, did your job, then went home to nothing. Everything was the same…until Booker came along. You finally felt useful again, but now that he was gone, well, everything was pointless again. So, who cared if you died right now? There was nothing else to live for.

You close your eyes, lie down, and prepare yourself for whatever may be coming.

 

* * *

 

**BOOKER’S POV**

Y/N had sacrificed everything for him and here he was about to leave her. He walked in silence next to Elizabeth and hadn’t heard a word she said.

“Booker, are you okay?” she asks.

“What?” He finally looks at her and shakes his head, “I mean…yes, I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. You’re worried about her, aren’t you?”

Booker stops in his tracks and turns to Elizabeth, “I can’t leave her here. I can’t just leave her to die.”

“I’m happy you said that. Let’s go get her.” Elizabeth makes a tear to bring them both to the laboratory where Y/N was.

Booker looked at the tear uneasily, “What if she…”

“We’re not going to think that way.”

He nods and steps through the tear first and Elizabeth follows. The smell in the room makes him feel queasy but Elizabeth looks as though she can’t smell a thing.

“Y/N!” he shouts but Elizabeth stops him.

“We don’t know who or what is here…”

“I know that the detective is here somewhere and I’m going to find her no matter what it takes!” He didn’t mean to snap at her but he was angry – at himself mostly. He was angry for even bringing the detective here in the first place. He was angry because he stood by and let her sacrifice herself for someone as worthless as him.

_Why wasn’t she answering him? Where was she?_

“Detective!”

“B-Booker…” Elizabeth calls to him quietly. He looks at her then at where she’s pointing. _There she is._ She laid there motionless, eyes closed. Booker didn’t like that at all. His heart dropped into his stomach as he approached the strange looking glass dome she seemed to be trapped in.

“Wha- How do we get her out of that?” Before Elizabeth could answer, he was slamming the butt of his gun against the glass and calling the detective’s name.

 

* * *

 

**YOUR POV**

There was that banging again and now someone was shouting. Wait. Were they saying your name? Your eyes flew open when you heard a gunshot that was a little too loud and what sounded like shattering glass.

_Running footsteps, heavy breathing…_

“She’s alive!”

“B-b…” _Could it be?_

“Don’t try to speak. Just keep your eyes open for me. Can you do that? Stay awake for me.” Booker sits you up and you hear a woman’s voice say ‘Careful’.

“Elizabeth,” you say weakly.

_They’re okay._

Your neck felt stiff, almost as if something was stuck in it. You try to reach back but a strong hand stops you.

“Don’t. I’ll do it.”

Elizabeth slips her hand into yours and smiles, “It’ll be okay. Just take a deep breath.” You feel pressure at the back of your neck then a sharp pain that makes you scream. “It’s over. You’re okay,” she reassures.

“Can you stand?” Booker asks, placing his hand on the small of your back. You nod weakly as he wraps both arms around you and helps you off the table. With one arm around you and the other on his pistol, he starts to walk slowly with you, looking down at you every now and then to make sure you were still okay. There are times when he must guide you towards cover to deal with some enemy or another.

At one point, he tells you not to look but you do anyway and are taken aback by what you see.

Were those crows that seemed to materialize from his hand? You had to be hallucinating.

When he comes over to you again, you flinch and he notices. He quickly drops his hand away. “Sorry you had to see that…” You weren’t sure how to respond and this time Elizabeth helped you walk.

“Booker, we need to stop and let her rest,” she says. You try to argue but you knew she was right. You were getting slower with evert step and could barely stay upright without support. Booker nods and holds his hand up, signaling you two to stop. He walks into a seemingly abandoned shop to make sure it was safe. A short time later, he waves you both in and helps Elizabeth set you down carefully. You didn’t flinch away from his touch this time and he was relieved.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, kneeling in front of you.

You give him a tired smile, “Never better.” He makes a small sound that may have been a laugh. You wanted to ask about what you saw but you weren’t up for another story today. “Thank you,” you say, taking his hand in yours.

He looks down at your hand then up at you, “What for?”

“For saving my life.” He had no idea how to respond. He wanted to tell you that you had saved his and had made it better even if it didn’t seem like it at the time. His hand moves up towards your face as though he wanted to touch it but he dropped it away after a time. Instead, he smiled and squeezed your hand.

“Booker, let her rest,” Elizabeth says and he takes his hand from yours. You look over at her and she gives you a strange but friendly look as Booker stands and nods at you before walking away. You listen to them talk quietly and let their voices relax you. Your eyes closed slowly and sleep came easily – maybe because, in this moment, you felt safe.


End file.
